Murder on the Hogwarts Express
by smmrrox
Summary: What if Agatha Christie wrote fanfic? Trista Phaedrus is hired as a substitute professor at Hogwarts. With Lucius in Azkaban all should go well, but a murder on the train suggests his influence reaches beyond prision. Who is responsible? And why?
1. Chapter 1 Invitation

**I do not own any Harry Potter characters and I have taken writing style and ideas from Agatha Christie. This is pure fiction with several original characters. Please read Deathly Hallows before reading this fiction as there are some spoilers if you have not. This story is the continued adventures of Trista Phaedrus (The Crimson Raven).**

_**Chapter One**_

_**Invitation**_

The Crimson Raven apothecary was crammed between The Witching Hour wine shop and Betabey's Used Books store, which was on the corner of Knockturn alley and Diagon alley. Trista Phaedrus, owner, and her able assistant and fiancé Cillian Delaney had been constantly busy since the now famous capture of Lucius Malfoy and his crew of miscreants.

Nearly ten months ago he had drugged her, kidnapped her and nearly killed her and her friends. The incident had caused headlines and free publicity to her business. Life was good, so good in fact that Trista had been putting off her wedding plans because she was too busy or too tired to think about flower, dresses and food for one hundred.

She sighed as she measured chamomile for an elderly witch. She was only half listening to the woman's account of her latest grandchild. What Trista wouldn't give for a week's vacation! At least they had a new apprentice, Cricket Cleary, although a bit plain and droll, she was skilled and efficient.

Cillian opened the door for the elderly witch and followed her out and retrieved the mail. A large barn owl took an owl treat from the stand and took flight with the mail he had been given.

"Hey Trista, you have a letter from Hogwarts," Cillian told her as he waved an envelope. "Do you think they're ordering?"

She took the envelope from him and read the front.

_**Trista Phaedrus**_

_**The Crimson Raven**_

_**Number Two Knockturn Alley**_

_**London**_

"The last time I got one of these I was ten. There are apothecaries closer to Hogwarts than London," she said opening it. "Although Severus Snape was in here twice. Once ten years ago, October 17 and once seven years ago June 23. For personal supplies. Oh, wow. Neville Longbottom will be getting married in September and Headmistress McGonagall wants me to substitute in Herbology. For one month."

"That's great. No wait, one month?" Cillian pouted, "I can't go one month with out you. I'll get lonely."

"That's so sweet. Your so lucky Trista," a blonde witch commented as she paid for her packages.

"Tell him that absence make the heart grow fonder, Wendy," Trista requested, flashing Cillian a sly smile.

"Say, how is it you remember the exact day Professor Snape came in and you've called me Cricket twice in the last week?" Cillian asked.

Trista smiled to her self as she remembered those two special occasions. It was no use trying to explain the attraction to Cillian. It was so tragic what happened to Severus.

"The first time he came in was the same day Gilderoy Lockheart was in Diagon alley promoting himself and Gretchen, quite literally tripped over herself to get his autograph. She broke her leg," Trista told him half the story.

The other half was that she had had a crush on Lockheart at the time, every witch did. Gretchen, the elderly witch that owned Moonstones, astronomy equipment, with her husband Jack, had been sweeping the sidewalk all morning so she could see him coming and warn Trista. Trista had dressed in a particularly low cut deep blue dress, to match her eyes, in case he came within sight, and was bending over a barrel of leaches when the bell over the door rang. Instead of standing up, she simply looked up to see Severus staring down at her with a slight smirk on his face. She had found his mysterious nature and melancholy attractive and had blushed at his attentions. His manner, however, was curt and business like and he did not return her flirtatious smile. That did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm for him.

"The second time was just after the Triwizard Tournament. Severus was worried and concerned. Voldemort's return and all. He actually held a conversation with me. Wonders never cease," she stopped her narration there.

Actually Snape had said she was smart to be better clothed that day. Times had changed and she didn't want to attract the wrong kind of attention. If she didn't know better, she would have swore he blushed before bidding her good bye.

"So I am going to take the Hogwarts Express on September first. Actually, I'm really excited. I do like teaching," Trista chattered excitedly.

The idea of taking the Hogwarts Express as an adult was a bit thrilling. She hadn't been back there in years. She wondered if it would be as she recalled. The professors that she studied under where gone now, most of them anyway. This was a chance to see what life was like on the "other side" of school. September first was only a week away.

Customers came and went making for a busy afternoon and before long six o'clock had come and the last of the day's patrons exited the shop.

With the shop finally closed and locked, the two went upstairs to their flat above the shop. Cillian wrapped his arms around Trista and pulled her in for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm on hers. He was truly a good kisser. She felt a familiar tingle rising in her core.

"I think that we should celebrate my new job first, then we can work on your impending loneliness," Trista purred in his ear.

She pulled out the silver clip and unbound his raven black hair. His hands wandered down her back, pulling her hips toward his. Her hands ran over his chest, stopping to feel his heart pounding in his chest. Cillian had unzipped her skirt and it dropped to the floor as his fingers worked on her blouse. She would let him do all of the work of undressing them both.

His hands pulled off her blouse and then her bra so his lips could caress her breasts. They moved over to the couch and he laid her down on her back. Cillian made short work of undressing himself and removing her undies. His warm and familiar touch sent beats of sensual pleasure through her toes. Trista moan and writhed with his touch, wanting more and more of him until she felt she could hold out no more.

"Oh, please Cillian. I want all of you in me," she whispered in his ear.

He plunged in her and they rocked and pitched an intense rhythm. She could feel need and desire rising as his breathing increased to shallow gasps. Every nerve was at attention and the thin strings that held back her orgasm finally broke. She grabbed at him for support as the pulse of ecstasy filled her every sense and she sighed with intense release.

His body rocked her a few more times before she heard the telltale sound of his own orgasm and felt his muscles release their passionate tension.

"I am beginning to think that one month may be long than I anticipated," Trista said, pushing his hair from her face.

They still lay embraced on the couch, his long black hair falling over his shoulder and onto her. His eyes were intensely blue and had a deep look of adoration. No love potion could make you feel like this.

She shook the thought from her head. Now was no time to dwell on the past. Her little tryst with Lucius still haunted her sometimes. He was sentenced to a year in Azkaban. How he got off with such a light sentence, she didn't know, it was not enough.

_They should have snapped his wand in half and shoved it up his…_

"Trista? Where has your mind wandered too?" Cillian asked as he kissed her chin.

"Sorry, I was thinking about going back to Hogwarts," she smiled at him affectionately.

The pair extricated themselves from the couch and made their way to the kitchen. It would not be the first time they had tea in the kitchen in the nude. With a wave of her wand, Trista conjured tea and a loaf of bread sliced it self in front of them. The conversation turned to business, as it usually did, and the evening meal passed in good spirits.

The next day was as bustling as ever. The only break was at noon when most shoppers were lunching. Gretchen threw the door open and blustered in a whirl of magenta and orange robes.

"McGonagall wants you at Hogwarts I hear," the old lady croaked. "Good for you. That's an esteemed thing to teach there. Even if it is just a short while. I expect it was the whole Malfoy affair, the arrest mind you. The Prophet sang you some pretty good praises as I recall."

"Well I don't think they'd hire her because she is an unwilling victim of a evil love potion," Cillian retorted bitterly.

"Mind your manners Cillian. I didn't mean to bring up bad recollections. I just am glad to see Trista and her shop recognized as they should be," Gretchen told him waging her bony finger.

"Thanks Gretchen. I am really excited and can't wait. I sent an owl to the school this morning asking for lesson plans, if there are any, or if I should make up my own. Neville has already assigned a book," Trista told her excitedly. "I am going down to Flourish and Blott's today to get my own copy of seventh year herbology. The other levels should be in his office."

"So how do you feel about working with Draco?" Gretchen asked raising an eyebrow at her.

"I have nothing against him. I hope his mother has influenced him more. What the world doesn't need is a Lucius junior," Trista responded.


	2. Chapter 2 Journey

_**Chapter Two**_

_**Journey**_

Trista stood on platform 9 ¾ with the crowd of milling parents and students. A trolley of her belongings stood beside her and Cillian leaned on the handle.

She had tried to dress in the latest fashion. _Witch's Whimsy_ was the new must have label. She felt that being up to date on her clothing and robes would win much need points from the students. Not to mention it was a good excuse to buy that chocolate brown set of robes that had brass button down each sleeve. She really needed it for arriving at Hogwarts, along with the pearl and gold jewelry. Cillian didn't get it.

"How does it feel to be going back? Why are you taking the train anyway? Why not apparate to Hogsmeade?" he asked her as he scanned the crowd.

"McGonagall requested I take the train. I think the last time I was here I was getting off the train at the end of seventh year. It's a bit weird getting on the train as an adult. Professor no less," she replied. "I hope I am less old-fashioned than I thought the professors were when I was a student."

"Those new robes were supposed to insure you were cool, at least that's what I thought you said," Cillian teased her.

"Of course I'm fabulous. I was referring to my teaching ability," she countered him.

"You can always tell the first time parents and students. They're the ones here too early and still combing junior's hair," Cillian told her as he pointed out a mortified boy trying to escape from his mother. " Did you ever wonder why McGonagall waited till the week before to ask you to sub instead of the month before? You would think that a honeymoon is not something you would spring on someone. Longbottom had to have told her earlier."

"Maybe the other sub backed out at the last moment or got sick. I don't think it's important. I am glad to have this opportunity," Trista responded. "Well time is about up. I should get on board."

She and Cillian stored her trunk on board and they stood back on the platform to say goodbye. His arms embraced her in a tight hold and she returned the affection. She looked him in the eyes and let her finger trace his jaw line before she kissed him quickly on the lips.

"The children are staring," Cillian stated, "There is a girl in the window down there who looks like you except she has darker hair. She keeps staring. When you come back we are going to start having children and teach them not to stare."

"Don't be so self conscious. People stare because your gorgeous and they wonder why you would be with me," Trista teased him, "And I would love to have your children. I'll remember that you said that. A month is not as long as you think. You act like I'll be gone years."

There was a moment when she though he had that wistful look, the one he got when he sensed something wrong but was sure she wouldn't listen. It was fleeting and then gone. It was time to board the train.

She stood at the door and waved good-bye until she could no longer see Cillian. Nervous knots jolted her stomach. She was really going. Cillian would be fine in the shop; after all he had Cricket to help. It would be a lonely bed with out him.

Trista moved through the train looking for a good place to sit. Most of the carriages were full of chatting friends. Finally she found one that just had one girl in it. She looked around fourteen, probably a fourth year. Trista opened the door and sat down.

"You're a bit big to be starting Hogwarts," the girl remarked. "You must be a new teacher. Who left? Wait. Are you subbing for Professor Longbottom? Dad said he got married this summer, but had to delay his honeymoon till September."

"Yes, I'm Trista Phaedrus. I'll be your herbology professor for September," she told the girl and stuck out her hand but the girl just ignored it and turned her head to stare out the window.

"You look like my mom. She was really pretty. She was good at potions and herbology too, just like you. I read about you in the Prophet," the girl spoke softly.

"Thanks. I am sure your mother is proud of you," she was really not sure of what she should say.

"Was. Was proud of me, she died. She was killed by Lucius Malfoy a few weeks before you got him sent to Azkaban," the girl looked at her with tears streaming down her cheek.

"How do you know that? You didn't witness it did you?" Trista asked horrified.

"I saw him walk out into our yard and disapparate. I didn't think much of it; he used to come around all the time. I just went to my room for a while. Around dinnertime I came down and didn't hear anyone. I searched the house and found her in the greenhouse on the floor clutching her favorite herbology book," the girl recounted and produced a book from her bag. "Dad was working in Egypt at the time. We were all supposed to go, but I didn't want to leave my friends for a whole month. Mom and I stayed."

"That is so sad. I am so sorry. If there is anything I can do, just ask," Trista told her. "What is your name?"

"Genevieve Drake. I'm a fourth year Ravenclaw," Genevieve said.

"Nice to meet you Genevieve. I was Ravenclaw too, in my day," Trista smiled at her warmly.

"If you don't mind, Professor Phaedrus, I'm really tired. I think I'll take a nap," she said as she closed her eyes and stretched out on the seat.

The car was warm, so Trista took off her new robes and laid them on the seat next to her and watched the miles go by. A loud ruckus in the hall stirred her from her daydream and she exited into the hall to investigate.

A small boy, probably a first year, was on the verge of tears and threatening several hexes at three boys holding a kitten hostage. Trista hated bullies and she intervened.

"Stop!" she raised her voice as she pulled out her wand.

All four boys froze for a moment, unsure of whom the stranger giving orders was.

"Who are you?" a tall, skinny boy asked rudely.

"Professor Phaedrus, herbology," she announced, "Now give the kitten back to his owner. Nicely."

No one moved. The bullies seemed to want to test her and they drew their wands and turned to run away. Trista was too quick and sent an immobilizing spell at the three and they froze in their spots. She then removed the frightened cat and returned it to the grateful boy.

"This is your cat, is it not?" she asked him. "I didn't just stun three students for nothing."

"Yes Professor, she is my new kitten. Her name is Betsy, after my grandma," he gave her a kind smile and trotted back down the hall.

She watched him disappear before releasing the other boys. They were stunned that she would do such a thing.

"Professors aren't aloud to do that," one short boy told her.

"And I should just let you pick on other, steal and lie? I don't thinks so. Watch yourselves, because I'm watching you," she told him as she shooed them away.

She decided it would be a good idea to walk up the length of the train so she could see what the rest were up to. Half way along the next hallway she ran into the Headboy and Headgirl, patrolling the area. She introduced herself and with in ten second of walking away promptly forgot their names. As Trista passed back toward her own car she noticed people now staring at her. Word had obviously gotten out about the new professor.

She passed her compartment and glanced in. Genevieve had taken Trista's robes and covered herself up. _Poor kid must be cold,_ she thought to herself. She continued back to the end of the train, glancing in each compartment as she passed. It was getting dark now and she noticed that the kids standing in the halls had their school robes on.

When she got to the end of the train some of the luggage and trunks stored their looked as if someone had knocked them over. One of the latches on hers was undone. She recruited two nearby sixth years to help her stack the trunks. They told her they hadn't seen anyone messing with them. Satisfied, she returned to her compartment.

Genevieve was still sleeping. They must be getting close now. She recognized the scenery, even in the dark. Only about five minutes now. She went over and shook the sleeping girl.

"Hey kiddo, were here," she spoke softly.

There was no response. Trista shook her again, a bit harder and removed the robes from the girl. Genevieve was lying on her stomach, face into the seat. Something was wrong. She wasn't waking. Fear and dread filled Trista. She felt the girl's hand. It was cooler than is should be for being covered in a warm coat.

The train lurched to a stop. Trista stood up, unsure of what to do next. She must alert the Headmistress. She opened the window and a patronus messages toward the castle. Then she carefully rolled the girl over. Genevieve Drake was dead.


	3. Chapter 3 McGonagall's Inquest

_**Chapter Three**_

_**McGonagall's Inquest**_

Trista drew the drapes closed over the window and door before she exited the compartment and then put a spell on the door to keep it locked until the headmistress arrived. The train was nearly empty now and the trunks were being off loaded. She wasted no time in getting to the conductor and letting him know that the train could by no means leave Hogsmeade station.

She stepped off the train into the cool air of night. A pop from behind her made her jump and she turned to look into the stern face of Headmistress McGonagall. A few more pops brought Madam Pomfrey and an unknown auror.

"I thought I put you on that train to prevent something like this," came the sharp voice of the Headmistress. "Poppy, will you take the poor girl to the hospital wing for now. Let's keep this quiet as we can."

Trista staggered a bit at the remark. What has she missed? No danger was mentioned in the letter she had received.

"Professor McGonagall, I saw no one on the train who could have done this. I sat in the same coach as Genevieve for twenty minutes and them patrolled the hall for an hour before coming back to the compartment and I stayed there until we reached Hogsmeade," Trista related.

"I want you to tell me exactly what happened from the moment you got to the platform to this moment now," Professor McGonagall insisted.

Trista related her story, tell about seeing Genevieve at the window, meeting her on the train, helping the boy and his kitten (leaving out the whole stunning bit), patrolling the corridors, helping with the fallen baggage and returning to her compartment.

Professor McGonagall paused for a moment reflecting on what Trista had said.

"Was the girls trunk one of those that had fallen over?" she inquired.

"Well, yes actually, now that I think back on it. I believe it was the one that had opened when it fell," Trista replied.

Professor McGonagall went over to the pile of trunks that had not yet left for the castle. She waved her wand and a battered trunk with the initials GSD painted on the front moved out of the stack. It opened and the contents flew into the air, then arranged themselves neatly and dropped back into the trunk.

"TWINKLE!" Professor McGonagall cried.

At that, a house elf appeared in front of her and bowed until her nose touched the ground.

"Twinkle, please see that this trunk goes to my quarters and is touched by no one other than you or I," she told the small creature, "and speak of it to no one."

With a crack the house elf and the trunk disappeared.

The auror came back from his inspection of the train to report to Professor McGonagall.

"There is no trace of magic in the compartment. How ever she was killed, it was not by magic," he reported. "I would like to set up an inquiry of all students who were in the same coach. The Headboy and girl can ask the rest of the students if they witnessed anything odd."

"Gavin, this is Trista Phaedrus. Gavin Avess," the professor introduced. "Thank you for looking. I will set up a room off of the Great Hall for you. Let us return to the school now."

Gavin Avess apparated to the front gates. Just as Trista was about to follow, Professor McGonagall held her by the arm.

"Trista, it seems as if you either ignored or did not receive my warning letter. Please tell me you received it," Professor McGonagall requested wringing her hands.

"I'm sorry Professor, all I received was your summons early last week. One page of basic information," Trista replied.

"What!? Early last week? I wondered why it took so long for you to reply. Some one has intercepted my letter and took out the second page," an alarmed Professor McGonagall reacted. "We must get to the castle at once. There is something you must see. After the feast and sorting, however."

The two women apparated to the front gates. Trista smiled inside as she passed by the winged boars and across the grounds to the enormous oak doors that led inside. Sad as the occasion was, she was glad to be back.

She wondered what information a fourteen-year-old girl could have that would be enough to get her murdered. What a tragic end. Trista decided she would do what ever it took to find the person responsible.

"We are needed in the great hall for the beginning of term feast. This incident will wait till it's over. Your chair at the professor's table should be obvious," the headmistress told her as they entered the castle.

Sitting at her chair near the end of the table, Trista had a better view of the great hall. It was all as she remembered, minus Dumbledore. She noticed the students were a different kind of quiet when Headmistress McGonagall addressed them. McGonagall was just as noble in her opinion. The students were in good hands.

She sat quietly through the sorting and welcome speech. When the headmistress introduced her she stood and made a small bow to a proper applause.

She made small conversation with Madam Hooch during dinner. The flying coach had asked about the incident on the train and Trista gave her the basic details. She could hear bits of conversation among the students about poor Ms. Drake.

It seemed an eternity before the feast was over and Professor McGonagall stood once again to address the students.

"I would like all of the professors and any of the students who rode in the fifth coach on the Hogwarts Express to stay, as well as Headboy and Headgirl. The rest of you will follow your prefects to your houses," the professor commanded everyone.

Professor McGonagall led everyone to a room off of the great hall. When she opened the door, Trista could see that it had been set up with chairs in sets of three and Gavin Avess was already waiting. People filed in, unsure if they should sit or stand.

"Please have a seat," she told everyone as they filled chairs. "This is Mr. Avess from the Auror's office. He and I will be conducting interviews with everyone concerning Genevieve Drake."

As everyone murmured among them selves, Professor McGonagall pulled Trista aside into an even smaller room. She produced a picture from her robes and handed it to Trista.

"Did you see the book in this picture?" she inquired.

Trista looked at the photograph. A beaming dark haired young witch smiled and hugged an old battered book. She looked about twenty-five or so, but the book was obviously hundreds of year old. Trista could see it was once dark brown leather with gold lettering, but time and use had worn it away. She noticed in the corner near the witch's hand was a dragon stamped into the leather. The book looked familiar.

"Where have I seen this book before?" she asked Professor McGonagall.

"That is a rare potion book reportedly made by Merlin himself. It is supposed to contain potion of such destruction and power that Merlin up a spell upon the method so you could read it, but would forget once your eyes left the page. That is a myth however and the book is of enormous historic value. That doesn't stop people from trying to use it. It disappeared after his death for a hundred years before reappearing in France in a private collection, from which it was stolen and disappeared again until this picture was brought to me after the death of this woman," the professor informed her solemnly.

"Who is that woman? She also looks slightly familiar," Trista puzzled.

"That woman is Genevieve Drake's mother. The book, is now missing," McGonagall's face was seriously and slightly uneasy.

"Professor, Genevieve showed me that book on the train. She was carrying it in her book bag," Trista whispered, "and who ever killed her must have taken it."

"All of the bags from the train were searched, Trista, and the book was found in your trunk. There is some sort of enchantment around it and neither I nor Professor Flitwick can remove it," she informed the shocked woman.

Trista stood lost for a moment. How did the book get to her trunk? Did Genevieve put it there? Why?


	4. Chapter 4 The Dungeon Room

Chapter One

_**Chapter Four**_

_**The Dungeon Room**_

The students were nervous and whispered among themselves as they waited until it was their turn to sit before Mr. Avess, Professor McGonagall, and Trista. She could hear them whispering and wondering what the new herbology professor had to do with Genevieve Drake.

The students Trista and Professor McGonagall had spoken with supplied no new information. No one heard any thing or saw anything out of the ordinary from the usual train ride. As the Head boy and girl and headmistress were ushering out the group of students, one small second year girl stopped to speak to Trista.

"Excuse me, Professor Phaedrus, I'm not sure if this is important, but Nicolaus Avery isn't here. He was on the fifth car, I saw him try to take someone's cat, but I noticed he wasn't here. He's in Slytherin, by the way," she spoke quietly.

"Thank you. What's your name?" Trista asked her

"Molly Prine, Gryffindor" she said pointing to the emblem on her cloak and backed out the door.

"Professor McGonagall," Trista spoke, "it appears not all of the students who should have come here, did."

"What are you talking about, Trista?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Molly Prine told me that Nicolaus Avery was in the area, but skipped this interview in favor of the Slytherin common room," Trista related.

"I would expect no less from him. Just like his father and grandfather," she told Trista. "I'll have Professor Malfoy send him to my office in the morning."

Trista cringed inside at the sound of the name Malfoy. She had glimpsed him at dinner, but he was seated at the other end of the table and did not look her way at all.

"Oh, by the way, if I hadn't told you already, you'll be staying in Headmaster Snape's old room, in the dungeons. I hope you don't mind. It's the only unoccupied room in the castle," Professor McGonagall informed her.

"I…I'm not staying in Longbottom's room?"

"I'm afraid PROFESSOR Longbottom's room in out of the question. You don't seem the type to believe in those ridiculous roomers that it is haunted. I assure you that I checked out that room myself and Severus Snape is long gone," came her icy reply.

"It's haunted?" Trista asked incredulously. "He didn't seem the type. I thought that room would now belong to Professor Malfoy?"

"I repeat, no it is not haunted. There are no other ghosts besides the ones who have lived here for centuries. Professor Malfoy stays in a room just out side the Slytherin common room. Good night Professor Phaedrus."

Trista followed her back out to the now empty great hall. The tapping of their shoes on the stone floor seemed to echo eerily all around her. She could hear the dwindling sounds of the last of the students heading across the castle to their dormitories.

She headed down to the dungeons, passed the potions classroom to the door next to Malfoy's office. The door pushed open easily and she walked into the room. Thankfully, the house elves had lit a fire and the room was somewhat warm.

It was, as she would have expected, sparsely furnished. The bed was small and had two wool blankets. Her trunk was in the corner and her clothes hung in a small armoire fitted with a dirty mirror.

High windows that showed a few weeds, proving that she was indeed below ground. She gave an involuntary shudder as she crossed the room to the small brown leather armchair before the fire. With a wave of her wand the door shut.

She pondered the day's events. That poor girl! Suddenly she remembered the book that had been placed in her trunk. She crossed the room quickly to her trunk and flung it open. There in the bottom was the book. She reached in to pick it up, only to find that she couldn't touch it. The farther she reached in the deeper her trunk seemed to get and the farther away went the book.

"How do I get the book?" she pondered out loud as she stood back up looking at a now normal trunk.

She tried reaching for it but not looking, only to have the same problem. No spells or charms seemed to work.

"Well, if McGonagall and Flitwick couldn't do it I don't know what makes me think I can."

Trista moved to the armoire and flung it open. She removed a nightgown and proceeded to hang up her cloak and the clothes she was wearing. As soon as the nightgown hit her skin, she realized how tired she was and headed to the bed.

"Oh no, this won't do," she chided and swirled her wand, producing a fluffy feather bed.

As she lay in bed she thought again of the day's events, the girl, the book and the mysteriousness of it all. Maybe she would go find the portrait of Headmaster Dumbledore. He would be able to help. Tomorrow, yes tomorrow she thought as she drifted off.

Trista felt a tremendous heat and opened her eyes and sat up. The fire was stoked really high and between that and the feathers and wool her nightgown was soaked with sweat. She ripped of the gown and tossed it on the floor then reached for her wand and sent the reducto spell to the fire to bring it down.

She lay only in her underwear on top of all the blankets. This was much better. Her mind went back again to Genevieve Drake. Why had she put the book in her trunk? What spell was holding it there? Had she been murdered for the book? Why hadn't Lucius taken it when he murdered her mother?

She closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Her mind went back to Cillian. This was only the first night and she was already missing him. Trista put her hands on her stomach and slid them up to her breasts. She caressed them softly while remembering their last night together. He had called out her name, _Ms. Phaedrus._ Wait, that wasn't right.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"_Ms. Phaedrus!"_ someone whispered.

Trista sat up alarmed and looked across the room. She stared unable to move. Severus Snape stood across the room.

"_Do you know why you're here? This will be trouble for you," _he whispered intently.

She stood up in shock, not knowing what to do. He crossed the room to her and put a hand out to touch her. Frightened she recoiled and his hand stopped short of her cheek.

"I…I… don't understand," she stammered. "Are you a ghost?"

Snape shook his head and put a finger to his lips to indicate she should be silent. His hands reached out to her and caressed her breasts. His touch was not as cold as she would have expected. As a matter of fact, she found it strangely alluring, like she couldn't resist. She didn't want to resist.

He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. Trista was unable to register what was happening. She found herself kissing him back, wanting more. He removed a hand from her breast and suddenly they were both naked.

His hard form pressed against her. His lips moved from hers down to her ear, whispering to her. She was so wrapped up in the moment that she could not concentrate on what he was saying. Something about stone.

Suddenly he pushed her against the wall, lifting her legs around his waist and plunging into her. She gripped his back for support. She could feel the flat stone rubbing roughly on her back. She didn't care, she wanted more. His movement was all engrossing, hot, rough. She kissed him again and felt the room fill with heat, like it was on fire.

The moment was coming, her moment. She opened her mouth to speak, but could only moan in ecstasy. Then it flooded through her, an earthshaking orgasm. Gasping and moaning she held on to Snape as she felt her strength give way. He carried her to the bed and laid her down on her back. Again he was whispering the same thing in her ear.

"_Find the golden trinity stone. Keep an eye on your enemies."_

"Yes," she whispered back, "I'll find it. Where do I look?"

"_Find the golden trinity stone. Keep an eye on your enemies."_

"Where is it?" she asked again

Suddenly he took her by the shoulders and shook her. He stared intently into her eyes and shook her again. The look was so frightening she shut her eyes.

"_Ms. Phaedrus!" _came the whisper and shake.

"_Ms. Phaedrus!" _it came again.

Trista opened her eyes to find Twinkle the house elf shaking her awake.

"Ms. Phaedrus must wake up! Breakfast has begun," came the small voice of the house elf.

Trista blinked and rubbed her eyes. She quickly looked down at her body. She was still wearing the nightgown. The room was back to normal temperature.

"Twinkle, was I talking in my sleep?" she asked the small creature.

" 'Where is it?' you asked," Twinkle told her. "What is it you lost and I shall help you find it?"

"Nothing. Thanks though. It was just a dream. It was just a really bizarre dream," she thanked her and got ready for her first day as herbology professor at Hogwarts.


End file.
